


Salvation

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Adventures in Odyssey
Genre: Angst, Baptism, Character Death, Christianity, Coming to Christ, Family Relationships - Freeform, Memories, Salvation, Trickle Lake, christian - Freeform, friends - Freeform, heart issues, three years post DBD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: It’s been three years since Richard Maxwell was last in the town of Odyssey. But this visit is a necessity. Richard has not seen John Avery Whittaker in a very long time. It is time to remedy that.





	1. Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Adventures in Odyssey, nor any of the character. I just have a strong appreciation for the characters and the voice acting.

Richard had spent much of his time since his last stint in Odyssey living in Chicago, however that had not kept him from vicariously traveling the States. His home was Chicago, but he strayed as far as he dared to the West Coast, to Alaska, to the border of California & Mexico, to the Florida Keys, the forests of Maine, the rainy temperate of Seattle, and even New York City. Of course, his mind was always on Odyssey. He had known about Whittaker's return from the Middle East, Jack Allen's marriage and subsequent acquisition of an antique’s store in Odyssey, Jason’s many mishaps, and the opening of the Timothy Center on Tom Riley’s farm. He was keen on surveillance, never wanting to let anything pass him by.

But it had taken his sister, of all people, to eventually convince him to return to Odyssey for just a few days - a short time. Their mom was ill and both fathers long gone. Richard needed to visit - if not just for his mother, than for others in town. He had much to discuss with Whit - the man who had saved his life in far more ways than just literally saving his life.

He had managed to cope with his injuries from Blackgaard’s attempt on his life, getting back on his feet in Chicago and finding a stable job. A computer repair company, highly reputable within the suburbs of Chicago, was more impressed than concerned with Richard’s record and hired him on the spot. He hadn’t moved positions since that time. Finally his life had worked for the better, leaving his past behind him and moving forward.

The car hummed as he put it into park and turned the key to off. He had parked along the side of the street, his childhood home two houses up in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The last time Richard had been inside had been the night after he was released from the hospital. He had let his mother fuss over him for one meal and getting into bed (he hadn’t been an invalid. He could still walk, talk, eat, and dress. Showering was a bit difficult, but he managed) but the next morning Richard had felt his time in Odyssey had come to an end. He got on the bus back towards Chicago after leaving his mother a farewell note and a promise to write.

Until now. Richard stepped from the car, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He had been a minimalist since – you guessed it – jail, and he had the basics with him. Even the home he had bought three months before was only about five hundred square feet and sparsely filled. His most valuable piece of property, aside from his home, was his laptop. And that went everywhere with him.

Spring was just starting in Odyssey, the trees budding, flowers peeking out from the soil, birds chirping, and the grass covered in dew. The sun was out that late morning as Richard walked to the home he thought he would never return to. Little had changed in way of the aesthetics of the home: blue siding, white trim, a red front door, two concrete steps leading to a sprawling but obviously dated porch. The swing, he remarked, had finally broke and been dismantled, gone from its usual spot to the left of the door.

Of course, the biggest change was the ramp that now replaced that section of the porch. Rachel had mentioned that their mother had grown weaker and was needing a wheelchair at times. He wasn’t around to help – it wasn’t his place. But it made him feel guilty anyway.

Richard knocked on the door as he turned the knob, the door swinging open easily. “Mom?”

The refrigerator door in the kitchen slammed shut and his mother’s cheerful voice called back to him. “Richard!”

He had to remember why he was there. To be with his mom. To see Mr. Whittaker. To remember Odyssey in a good light – if that was possible.

He placed his pack on the ground and walked into the kitchen, his mother smiling from where she stood by the kitchen sink, a carton of milk out, her right hand white knuckled as it gripped the counter. Richard grew immediately concerned, quickly reaching her side. “You should sit down.”

She waved him off, her smile slightly strained. “I’m fine. You just got here, you should sit and rest. It’s so good to see you, my dear Richard.”

He wondered if sometime in the past she would have looked at him differently, displeasure on her face. But this was now, and he had told himself many times to focus on the present, not the past. “You don’t look well, mom. I can’t let you get any worse.”

She waved him off again. She patted his shoulder and got to pouring herself a glass of milk. Her hands shook and she looked like she was about to fall over, but Richard knew she would shrug off his assistance again. If nothing else, he had gotten his stubbornness from her. So he stood beside her as she got her milk and finally allowed her to get him to sit at the table once she was also ready to sit.

She leaned forward, smiling as she patted his knee. “You waited a long time to come back home, Richard.”

He took her hand in his and also smiled. “But I’m here now. And I’m here to make sure you don’t overdo it.”

Catherine took a sip from her glass, her eyes gleaming. “Rachel has not been truthful with you.”

“She has been plenty truthful with me, mom. You need to listen to your doctor.”

“Like you did three years ago?”

Richard scowled. “If nothing else, we are related.”

She laughed, reaching up to push a long strand of brown hair behind his ear. “Now, my dear, tell me about Chicago. We will talk about me in time.”

 

* * *

 

Richard hadn’t seen Whit’s End since that fateful day. It looked no different. However, this time it was open to the public and kids were everywhere. It brought a smile to Richard’s face. After everything that had happened with Dr. Blackgaard, the town needed hope. And Whit’s End brought that to everyone that graced its walls, child and adult alike.

Sure, the building had gotten a paint job, but its true form had nary changed. The steps that Richard took up to the front door still had that very slight lean, almost unnoticeable from the street. The double doors a bright white against the green grass and light yellow of the outer walls of Whit’s End. A flood of memories from the last time he had been up the same steps hit him. Connie – Eugene – Jason – Jack – computer programs – the Imagination Station. He wasn’t sure he could hold on.

The left door opened in a rush and a group of kids came chattering out of the shop, down the steps, and to the sidewalk. Richard was pulled from his memories, momentarily stunned. The last kid out the door slowed down, noting the stranger. “Oh, sorry, mister. Excuse us.” She was kind enough to hold open the door, letting Richard thank her as he finally entered Whit’s End.

The bell above the door jingled as it shut closed behind him. About a fourth of the booths and tables were sparingly filled, due to school still in session and it barely being 12:30pm. But the busyness of Whit’s End was not a priority in Richard’s agenda for having visited. In fact –

“RICHARD!!”

He hadn’t heard that high-pitched scream since the hospital. And no one ever really forgot the scream of one Constance “Connie” Kendall. But what he did forget was her tendency to rather violently bear hug everyone within a five mile radiance – or really all of the town of Odyssey.

Richard was momentarily stunned when Connie threw her arms around him. She had surprisingly gained two inches on his five foot two inches stature – but then again, he also noted she was wearing platform shoes as she pulled out of the hug.

“Hi, Connie.”

She held him at arms-length, eyes sparkling. “It is SO good to see you! Oh – WHIT. You haven’t seen him in so long! Let me grab him.”

Before Richard could get a word in edge wise, Connie was running behind the counter and disappearing into the kitchen. Richard’s body mentally remembered the electrical stun Blackgaard had used to incapacitate him and he felt weak. He was gonna need to sit down.

Whit’s End largely hadn’t changed over the years – of course, a few differences here and there by Jack Allen, Eugene Meltsner, Jason Whittaker, and John Whittaker himself. Granted, the only handful of times Richard had been in the building was to find information out about Applesauce (he hadn’t touched the real stuff, let alone actual _apples_ , in _years_ ), manipulate Lucy, ask for forgiveness, and then get caught by Blackgaard and – sentenced to death.

Richard shivered, the memories far too vivid in his mind. He made his way to the counter and sat in an unoccupied stool, his mind seemingly elsewhere. But his ears didn’t miss the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, a familiar voice rambling on about Jonah and the Whale.

“Mr. Whittaker has had the Jonah and the Whale book in the library since I was hired. The young ones enjoy it. I believe it would be an excellent resource for your Sunday school lesson this coming week, Katrina.”

 Eugene Meltsner and Katrina Shanks (presumably, as Richard had yet to meet her) stepped into the main part of Whit’s End. Eugene had an animated face (like always, in Richard’s opinion) as he spoke. “If you need any assistance preparing for the lesson, I would be happy to offer my expertise.”

Katrina giggled. “Expertise, Eugene?”

He looked momentarily confused. “Well, as I am a scholar and focus on the words of the Bible –“

She patted his arm and continued to walk towards the exit. “I’m kidding, Eugene. I will certainly call you if I need your assistance.”

Eugene followed behind her, a perplexed look on his face. “I –“ He stopped short just a few feet from where Richard sat. It took him a second, but eventually Eugene made some sort of greeting to the acquaintance. “Oh.”

Richard gave a small smile. “Hello, Eugene.”

Katrina glanced behind her, seeing Eugene giving the man sitting on a stool a surprised look. “Eugene?”

The white shirt and black vested man blinked and returned focus to Katrina. “I apologize. May we discuss this further at another time?”

Katrina nodded. “Okay, Eugene. I have to go see my father. Call me, and I will see you tomorrow afternoon.” Eugene barely said good-bye before Katrina had exited Whit’s End.

“Mr. Maxwell, it has been some time since you were last in town.” Eugene moved to man the counter from the other side, facing Richard.

Richard shrugged. “Just over three years. I had – business. Elsewhere.”

Eugene was about to answer when Connie crashed through the door from the kitchen, her body – well – electric.

“Eugene! Richard –“

Richard held up a hand. “He knows, Connie.”

She seemed out of breath as she smiled. “Well, Whit is finishing something up in the freezer and will be out in just a second. I didn’t tell him who it was that wanted to see him. He is going to be so happy to see you Richard. When you left so unexpectedly after helping the town three years ago, we all didn’t know if we would see you again!”

Maybe it was just him, but Richard felt like he had let the town down by leaving. But he didn’t belong in Odyssey – he had known that for a very long time. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to overstay his welcome. Obviously he had misjudged. But the memories he was experiencing today would have replayed in his mind every day he stayed, and if he wasn’t already mentally unstable at times, he would have had a lot worse to deal with then just depression and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“It is, however, a pleasure to see you once again, Richard.”

Richard gave Eugene a smile. “As it is to see you, Eugene. Connie.”

It was just then that the one and only John Avery Whittaker stepped from the kitchen, a towel drying his hands. “Now Connie, who –“ But he didn’t finish the sentence as he saw Richard Maxwell sitting at the counter before him. Whit smiled broadly. “Well, I’ll be. Richard.”

Out of instinct, Richard stood up and took a step to the side away from the stool. Was he nervous? Why the hell would he be nervous?! He had great admiration for John Whittaker. The man had saved his life!

“Mr. Whittaker. I know it’s been a while – um, well, years now. But – I just wanted to say – say hi.” Oh yeah, he was nervous. Richard wanted to crawl into bed.

Whit came around the counter, discarding the towel onto a table top nearby. He took Richard’s hands in his and squeezed. Whit was gentle and smiling and looked so – so welcoming. “I’ve been praying for you to come back to Odyssey. Everyone has told me everything that happened while I was out of town. You are owed a great amount of thanks. But why have you returned only now?”

Richard didn’t really want to talk about everything on his mind with Eugene and Connie around. And before he could answer, the phone in his pocket buzzed, telling him he had another engagement to attend to. Time had passed so fast, and only now he had greeted Mr. Whittaker. 

“I have so much to discuss with you, Mr. Whittaker. It has been far, far too long. But I apologize for the short stay, I have another engagement I am running late for across town. If it wouldn't inconvenience you, Whit, would you meet me at – at Trickle Lake tonight at 7pm?”  
Whit gave a short nod, letting Richard’s hands go free. “Of course, Richard. I will be there.”

Richard graciously took a step back from the counter and Whit, a small smile on his lips. “Thanks, Whit. I will see you then. It was nice to see you all, again.” He headed towards the door as Connie, Eugene, and Whit all chorused good-byes.  
“Good-bye, Richard.”

“SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, RICHARD!”  
“See you, Richard.”

 

* * *

 

His mother safely tucked into bed after her cardiologist appointment that late afternoon, Richard had taken the achingly slow journey up to Trickle Lake. He hadn’t been back since that time, and he knew tonight would be the night that he would remedy his past and tie it all into a hopeful future. At least, that’s what he hoped. As long as the memories didn’t hit him too hard. But he knew himself far too well to know that would be a lie – he was going to suffer the whole way there. If Whit’s End had been bad, then the road to Trickle Lake was going to be absolute hell.

He hadn’t been awake for the majority of the ride up the winding road towards the lake. Richard could only imagine Myron’s face as he dumped Richard’s body in the back seat of that horrid smelling car (1994 gray Honda Accord, still had that new car smell) and made Professor Bovril drive off, away from Whit’s End. So the first part of the journey was mostly made in white-knuckled silence, Richard gripping the steering wheel with all the strength he could muster.

It wasn’t long before that fateful turn came into view, and Richard’s mind became – elsewhere.

_“Jellyfish, where are we going?”_

_“It’s this place I know behind Trickle Lake. Just keep going up this road. Well, well, well. Sleeping Beauty is waking up. How did you like your little shock, huh?”_

_“It wasn’t half as bad as waking up and seeing you. Having a good time, Myron?”_

_“Not as good a time as I’m gonna have.”_

_“Mind if I give you a piece of advice?”_

_“Why not?”_

_“When you’re doing something like this…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Make sure you lock the door! SEE YA!”_

He had intended on going over the embankment. He had needed to get as far away from these men as possible – and the turn was the perfect spot.

Richard gently pulled his car off to the side of the road, hands starting to shake. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. But he needed to do this. It was his only choice.

Little traffic was noted on the road that evening, so Richard had no trouble getting out and stumbling a couple of feet down the embankment. He hadn’t seen the area clear enough to remember every detail from his fall, but he could still remember the feeling of falling, hitting rocks and branches, losing all control of his extremities. Time and nature had changed the landscape, so it wasn’t exactly the same as that day, but it didn’t really matter. Richard still felt the pain, the sharp gasp at the bottom when he lost consciousness. He’d been so numb from the electrical shock, he had assumed it would have been painless. Just a passing thought. He had been utterly wrong, as even now he could feel the pain _everywhere_.

He had so many questions that went largely unanswered. Did Myron and Bovril attempt the climb down to make sure they had finished what Dr. Blackgaard had requested? Did they know that the score wasn’t really settled in the end, that Dr. Blackgaard died with little knowledge of Richard’s true intentions, let alone Richard’s own complicated hospital stay? Had they any idea of the history between Dr. Blackgaard and himself, the reasons behind wanting Richard dead? And if they had managed to reach his unconscious form, why didn’t they completely finish the job? Why was Richard left for someone to find him, to save him?

But it wasn’t so much the actual events that gave Richard nightmares on this road trip up to Trickle Lake. Richard had a memory that never forgot – it was quite vivid, this much was true. But he also had quite an active imagination. The ‘what if’ factor had been plaguing him since he woke up in the intensive care unit at Odyssey General Hospital over three years before.

Coming back to himself, Richard sucked in a breath, attempting to settle his rapid pulse and clear his mind. What had happened at that spot three years before was behind him. And, unfortunately, he remembered little else from that incident – due to his untimely unconscious bit, you see. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He had to find peace in this place. He just had to.

Time was escaping him. Richard eventually walked back to his car, his mind allowing itself to continue on a journey he had rebelled against for over three years.

The rest of the car ride up to the lake was inconsequential. Richard had been up to Trickle Lake as a kid. So the memories that hit him were negligible in light of his current predicament.

It had, however, plagued him for quite some time, wondering where exactly Myron had been headed that day. What place near the lake would have been sufficient enough to hide their evil acts? What hidden clearing would have given Myron ample space to beat him, ruin him, silence him, and then bury him? But that was the thing – Richard would never know. He would never truly know. He hoped to never have to deal with Myron ever again. The man was still in jail from the Blackgaard mess, and likely wouldn’t see the outside for another five years. Myron had plea bargained his way to a lower sentencing. Had Richard stood up for himself, claimed that Myron had attempted to murder him, Myron would have lost that bargain. But Richard had never brought it up to the police. He had ran – like a coward.

Trickle Lake had a smattering of groups hanging out around the water’s edge that evening. A paddle boat was lazily wandering the lake. A man and his child were attempting to fish from the dock. Overall, it was a typical spring evening at a local hang out spot. But for Richard, the meaning of coming to Trickle Lake that evening was much different.

He had parked his car and gotten out, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t really want to attract any attention, so he walked off to a more secluded section of the lake, a group of ducks hanging out in the brush and cat tails. He sat, sighing. While he had no specific memories of Trickle Lake, he had conjured up quite the imaginary death for himself. He was a masochist, what could he say? That said, he wasn’t entirely sure he enjoyed the thoughts he came up with. But three years had given him ample time to wonder about the ‘what ifs’.

He sat, hugging his knees close to him. He stared across the water, the imaginary memories hitting him hard. He prayed it wouldn’t overtake him. Not here – not _now_.

_He stumbled from the car when it eventually stopped in a hidden clearing, his feet like lead. He couldn’t run, not really. It would be fruitless. So he turned back towards the sneering face of Myron, his body mentally preparing to fight. He had no idea how long he would be able to fend off the deadly advances of Myron, but this wouldn’t be their first fist fight. Jail had brought them face to face far too many times. This would be the last time facing off – Richard was certain of that fact._

_He put his hands up in mock defense. He was too weak, too unprepared to really hold off Myron for long. Add to it a second player – Professor Bovril – and Richard knew he wouldn’t last long. But two things were sure in his mind: he would not surrender and he would not beg. If he was going to die, he wouldn’t let them steal his dignity at the same time._

_Words passed between them, but it doesn’t last. Myron gets in a few good punches, disarming Richard, disorienting him. Bovril manages to put Richard on his knees, his arms wrenched behind him. Myron gives no mercy with his punches to Richard’s head, face, and chest._

_The end comes in slow increments. Blood comes from multiple places as Richard loses the ability to fight back. Breathing becomes a challenge. Bones crack. He gracelessly falls to the ground, unable to get up. His misery will be his downfall. He will die. He doesn’t fight as unconsciousness swallows him up. He knows he will never open his eyes again. Blackgaard – had finally won._

A hand gently landed on Richard’s right shoulder, and he startled, a sound between a gut-wrenching cry and inexplicable fear escaping him.

Whit pulled back, concern on his face. “Richard?”

Richard scrambled up to his feet, his breathing fast. “I’m sorry, I’m so – sorry. I –“ He was going to pass out if he didn’t breathe properly. He still felt the phantom sensations of being beaten to death through-out his body. The final ‘what if’ scenario: his death.

Whit gave Richard a small smile. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Richard. I apologize for sneaking up on you. You looked very deep in thought.”

He gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, I – I was.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Whit had arrived. That meant all of this could soon be behind him. Richard felt relief flood him and his heart started to settle down.

He smiled, glancing back to his – mentor. His friend. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Whittaker. You probably are wondering why I asked you to meet with me – well, here, of all places.”

Whit shrugged. “I assume you have your reasons.” He gestured towards a bench a few feet behind them, giving them both a few seconds to get more comfortable for a good, long discussion.

Richard sat, folding his hands in his lap. He looked back up at Mr. Whittaker and felt peace. It was going to be okay. “While you were gone, in the Middle East, I did come back to Odyssey.”

“When Dr. Blackgaard attempted to take over and then blow up my shop?”

Richard gave a sheepish look. “When you say it like that, it sounds far different from the version playing in my head.”

“I know a little of what happened, but Jason kept to the basics. He didn’t really mention who all was involved.”

“Well, some things happened, and – it’s taken some time to sink in, but what happened really changed me. You see, Dr. Blackgaard wanted me – well, he wanted me dead.”

Whit gasped, eyes wide. “Richard.”

“Which you already knew. He did try to leave me to burn in Blackgaard’s Castle. But this time, he got pretty darn close to completing the job. I was trying to get information that would have cleared Tom Riley’s name and maybe help stop the vandalism going on around town at that time, but I got – I got caught. And Dr. Blackgaard tried to put me in the grave, but I was foolish enough to save myself by trying a stupid stunt like jumping out of a moving car.”

“RICHARD!”

Richard gave Whit another sheepish look. “They were going to – murder me. I had to act quickly. But Jack Allen, he found me and took me to the hospital. I eventually woke up from a coma, recuperated in the hospital, and then went back to Chicago. But those events three years ago really got me thinking – about you, and about God.”

There was a warm sparkle in Whit’s eyes, his smile widening.

“Which brings me to – to now. You saved my life. And then Jack saved my life, and I know how you two are so alike. And you forgave me, even though I had done a lot of bad things against you. I’m still not sure Odyssey can be my home, but there is something I need your help with, Mr. Whittaker. Will you – help me?”

Whit gently put a hand on Richard’s arm. “I will help you with anything, Richard. All you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks. Well, in the past three years, I’ve been – doing some soul searching, so to speak. And I know I have so much still to learn, and I’ll never be perfect, and I still struggle with my uncertainty, and especially my unbelief in all of this. But I’m ready to accept God’s grace, Mr. Whittaker. You’ve shown me Christ through-out your entire existence on this earth, even when I’ve been a horrible human being. And knowing that you can forgive, I know that God can forgive. And – well, it comes down to this, Mr. Whittaker. I want to accept God into my heart. Would you help me, Mr. Whittaker?”

Whit looked relieved. “You mean it, Richard?”

Richard nodded slowly. “Of course.”

Whit enveloped Richard in a hug, tears in his eyes. “Praise the Lord!”

Richard finally felt that peace settle over him, and he knew the right decision had been made.

They finally released each other, Whit smiling, his cheeks wet. “Praise the Lord, Richard. I have prayed for this day for a very long time.”

“I knew you would say that. Which is why I have another question to ask you.”

“Anything, anything at all.”

“Would you baptize me? Here in Trickle Lake? Before I go back to Chicago?”

Whit’s face seemed to falter. He was unsure if that was a wise idea, considering he was not an ordained pastor.

Richard sensed his discomfort and hurriedly continued. “I realize that this is an unconventional way to do it, but I don’t have any connections to a church. And since you lead me to this place in my life, I wanted you to be a big part of it. I understand if you have reservations. I just – I was meant to die that fateful day, somewhere behind these trees, but I was saved. I was saved so I could come to Christ one day. And that day has finally arrived. I need your help in this, Mr. Whittaker. It wouldn’t be complete without you.”

Whit contemplated what Richard was asking him. Prayerfully, he came to a decision. “I would be honored to lead you into the family of Christ, Richard. I will be here for you every step of the way.”

For the first time in a very long time, Richard felt all of his reservations fall away. He had found the one thing he had been looking for all along: God. And now he had the greatest mentor of all, John Avery Whittaker, to guide him on the fulfilling journey ahead. For the first time in a very long time, Richard broke down. Into tears of happiness and thanksgiving.

“Thank you, Whit. You have no idea – _no idea_ – what this means to me.”

 

* * *

 

The house was still dark later that night when Richard finally arrived back at his mother’s home. He had spent a lot of time talking with Whit – and praying. There was so much ahead of him, and so much behind him. He had found peace. It was a relief.

Richard made it up the stairs, feeling tired both inside and out. But before he could get settled into the guest bedroom, he saw a lamp on in his mother’s room. And he distinctly remembered that lamp being off when he had helped his mother into bed. She needed rest. Plus the dim light wasn’t good for her eyes.

He peeked through the door crack and saw his mother wide awake, her hands shaking as they tried to write in a slim notebook – a journal by the looks of it. Richard internally sighed and knocked, entering when his mother called him into her room.

Catherine patted the empty bed spread to her right, her smile bright. “How was your time with Mr. Whittaker?”

Richard sat where she had beckoned, taking her hand in his own two. “It was – gratifying. But I didn’t expect you to be awake when I returned. You need your rest, mom.” He tried to give her a stern look, but it was lost among the infectious cheerfulness Catherine exuded.

“I know,” she said as she carefully set her journal on the oak bedside table. The lamp gave light to the words on the front: _For there is a season for everything – a season to hope, and a season to cry; a season to sing, and a season to be silent; a season to speak, and a season to write…_

“But my mind was too active to sleep for very long. And you are only here for a few days. I wanted to be up when you came home.”

He sighed, externally this time. “It isn’t like I was going to up and leave without saying good-bye, mom.” He had done that twice now. The last two times he had been in Odyssey. He hadn’t exactly treated his family well. But his sister and his mother had been pretty unhappy with him, and it had only been in the past few months that Richard had finally reached out to both of them, hoping to make amends. Mostly for having left unexpectedly after his near-death experience and his mother’s kindness to help him heal. Which is why he was in his mother’s house now – enough time seemed to have passed that she no longer seemed to harbor angry thoughts every time she looked at the son who had disappointed her at every turn. Richard had always assumed there would never be enough time between his previous actions and the present to make anyone forget what he had done. But then Whit had taught him about forgiveness, and Richard had struggled with that concept. Like Eugene had said once, was to forgive to forget? But Richard knew he would never forget, regardless of the forgiveness given to him.

He had a lot to work out with his newfound faith. He had a lot to work out just with his family. Visiting probably wasn’t going to cut it.

Catherine rolled her eyes. “If I remember correctly, you managed to get down a flight of stairs and across the cul-de-sac without saying good-bye when you were still injured, young man. You have a habit of leaving without saying good-bye, so that explanation won’t fly by me. But, that is behind us and you are here now.” She smiled again, patting her son’s hands. “You have grown into a surprising man, my Richard. I am most proud of you for righting your wrongs. I’m sorry for the time we have let pass between us. I am so glad you have gotten on your own two feet out in the world. I’m also glad you came to visit. While I may not be the whipper-snapper of a mom these days, I still think of you often. You are my son, regardless of what has happened between us. I love you very much, Richard.”

Richard curled up on the bed, resting his head on his mother’s lap. “I love you, mom. I’m sorry, for everything. I’ll try to do better. I – I accepted Christ into my heart today. It just – took a while to believe.”

“God rejoices, my Richard.” She gently pushed long brown strands of hair away from his face, her smile turning sad. “Hold tight to Him. He loves you just as much as I do.”

They were silent for a long time, her hands eventually stilling in sleep.

Richard was quiet as he sat up, kissing his mother on her forehead. She didn’t even stir as he covered her up with the blanket. He silently stood up, turning off the lamp and slipping from the room. He would let her sleep – she needed it more than he did.

The next morning, Richard was up long before his mother. Eventually the clock seemed to be running away into the late morning and she hadn’t even made a sound of getting up to the bathroom. Concern etched on his face, Richard knocked on his mother’s bedroom door and slipped in when there was no reply.

Everything was exactly as he had left it the night before. Even the way his mother was sleeping. The warning bell inside Richard’s head went off and he quickly reached his mother’s side, his hand on her neck in an instant. He, remarkably, felt a pulse – but it seemed faint and thready. Her breathing was steady and even, just slow. He gently shook her, calling her name. “Mom. Mom! Can you hear me? MOM?!”

She still did not stir.

Richard panicked. He needed an ambulance. She needed medical attention – NOW!

* * *

Richard spent most of the afternoon sitting in the ICU waiting room at Odyssey General, doctors and nurses giving him updates on his mother. In turn, he relayed the information to his sister, who had already managed to get a flight out to Odyssey that night. When he wasn’t on the phone, Richard felt – listless. Like everything was going wrong, and he could do nothing to stop any of it.

He was dozing off in the rock solid chair when the chair beside him managed to make a creaking noise. Richard sat up, rubbing his neck. He nodded at the newcomer, acknowledging their existence.

“Have you been in to see her?”

Richard shook his head. “They had done an EKG in the emergency room, brought her up to the ICU, and then the cardiologist rushed her to the cardiac cath lab. She came back up about thirty minutes ago. She’s still not responding to any stimuli. They started her on two drips for her blood pressure and put in a temporary pacemaker. But they believe that she didn’t have enough oxygen to her brain through-out the night. Her heart was beating too slowly. But after they make sure she is stable, they will let me see her. I called Rachel and she’ll be here late tonight. All I can do now is really wait.”

He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands. “It’s my fault, Whit. We were talking and she went to sleep, and I didn’t even think that maybe something was wrong. My mother may never wake up because of me.”

Whit slipped off the chair onto his knees. “There is nothing you could have done. Nothing you could have foreseen, Richard. But I know what you can do right now.”

Richard looked up, tears in his eyes. “I’ve been praying since I called the ambulance.” He swallowed, feeling his heart ache. This wasn’t exactly how his visit was supposed to go.

Whit took Richard’s hands in his and started praying out loud.

“Dear Lord, our Heavenly Father, we come to you today for a matter close to our hearts. Catherine is in need of your protection, your guidance. Please be with her in this time of need.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a long night. Richard had eventually told Whit to go home and get some sleep, even though Richard himself wasn’t going to be leaving. Rachel arrived in town at about two in the morning and raced to the hospital. The two siblings had barely said a word, just passed by each other on the way to visit their mother in small stints, one at a time.

It wasn’t unsurprising to Mr. Jack Allen when he finds Richard sitting wearily on a chair in the ICU waiting room, his eyes closed and face drawn. Jack vaguely remembers doing the same for his wife Emily, and in the not too distant past, doing the same for the man now _not_ in the hospital bed.

Richard looked up as footsteps approached. “Mr. Allen.” Richard smiled sadly. “Thanks for coming.”

Jack gently sat in the chair beside Richard, his focus on the young man who had grown up in such a short time. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Richard. However, I regret that it is under these circumstances. It seems we were here not that long ago, for different reasons.”

Richard managed a chuckle. “Still remedying that part of my past. But – I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances also. I knew you were still in town and all, I just – well, Whit and I – you know our history. I needed to see him. It had been far too long.”

“I’m not offended in the least.”

“I did hear that you got married. Congratulations, Mr. Allen.”

It was Jack’s turn to smile. “Thank you, Richard. Is there anything I can do for you at this time?”

Their conversation was cut short as the ICU doors opened and Rachel Woodworth walked out into the waiting room. She took the opposite seat of Jack next to Richard and sighed.

“Any changes?”

Rachel shook her head. “The doctors were rounding in the unit. They should be out soon. They said they would like to talk to us.”

Richard nodded.

They didn’t have to wait long, a mass of people exiting the ICU in a tight group. Richard had met them all the day before – the attending physician Dr. Henry O’Hare; a third year resident Dr. Ashley Steens; a first year resident Dr. Jeremiah Aarons; two medical students Trevor and Cassandra; a pharmacist Dr. Lori Tavona; and the charge nurse on the unit that shift, Melissa.

Dr. Aarons walked up to the two siblings and offered a hand to them both. “Good morning, Ms. Woodworth, Mr. Maxwell.”

They shook hands with the man as Richard commented, “Doctor. How is our mom?”

The young doctor looked behind him, his attending nodding. Dr. Aarons gestured towards a meeting room off to the side of the waiting room. “If you would, we would like to discuss with you your mother’s care and any decisions that are necessary for her care. In private, of course.”

Jack held up a hand and feigned mock offence. “Okay, okay, I know when I am not wanted.” He glanced over at Richard. “I will be right here when you come back.”

Richard nodded and stood. Rachel followed suit and the entire group entered the private meeting room, Trevor silently closing the door behind them all.

Once they were all seated, Dr. Steens started the conversation.

“After running all of the tests that felt appropriate, we have determined that your mother lost the original pacemaker of her heart – the SA node. It is what keeps the heart beating at a normal rate between 60 and 100 beats per minute. When that electrical pulse ceases to function, another site on the heart called the AV node takes over. It is much slower than the first node because it has to work harder to get the entire heart to function properly. Unfortunately, if this electrical pulse also fails, then the main pumping action of the heart decreases to a very slow rate, from between 20 to 40 beats per minute. This very slow heart rate – what we call bradycardia – can have no symptoms. Or it can be very detrimental for the individual.”

Trevor spoke up. “Our tests showed that the very last pacemaker of the heart had taken over. And the state your mother came into the emergency room in allowed us to determine this bradycardia was, unfortunately, detrimental.”

Rachel looked confused, her eyebrows pulled together, eyes wide. “So what happened?!”

Dr. Aarons spoke gently. “While the heart continued to pump and get blood to her arms, legs, and brain, the brain was not receiving enough oxygen to function completely. We tested her brain activity over night and have found that she has only one section of her brain working properly. Her brain cells died due to the limited amount of oxygen during the period her heart slowed and intervention was delivered here in the hospital with the temporary pacemaker. The only part of her brain functioning is her brain stem – it is why she is still breathing on her own.”

Richard looked like a train had run him over. He swallowed, his saliva thick in his throat. “So – she’s brain dead?”

Dr. O’Hare nodded. “I am very sorry, but your mother is in a vegetative state at this time, and brain activity is unlikely to return. Which is why we need further instruction from you, her family.”

“Exactly what is it you want us to do? You’re the doctors,” Rachel scoffed, appalled that she was even being asked this. She had no medical expertise!

Cassandra spoke up. “At this time, there are a few choices that can be made.”

Dr. Steens took over. “We need to know whether we should continue with a more permanent pacemaker, however this is not advised due to her current brain status; whether we should continue with the temporary pacemaker and wait for her brain stem function to cease to put her onto a ventilator to keep her alive; whether we should initiate comfort measures and allow her a natural death by stopping the temporary pacemaker; and or if we should initiate a Do Not Resuscitate Order.”

“The truth,” started Dr. Aarons, “is that we do not believe her brain activity will come back. That means she will stay unconscious until her heart and breathing stop. At this time, her breathing is controlled naturally, on her own. However, we are regulating her heart function. If we stop the temporary pacemaker, her heart will continue at a rate of 20 to 40 beats per minute, however it will not be able to sustain this for very long on its own and will cease to function. If we did not have a Do Not Resuscitate Order in place, we would attempt to intervene, to restart her heart, which could prove futile in the long run. If we did not stop the temporary pacemaker, it would be a waiting game until her brain stem stopped functioning and her respiratory system failed. We would then put her on a ventilator and she would be artificially sustained. A Do Not Resuscitate Order would allow us to continue with the temporary pacemaker, but we would not take action if her breathing failed and we allowed her natural death. As the outlook of her survival is bleak, we know this is a very difficult decision to make. But we do need to know how to proceed.”

Both siblings looked at each other. They had no idea how to proceed. So much information had just been presented – they were overwhelmed.

Rachel was finally able to spit out, “Do you need an answer now? Richard and I – we need to discuss this.”

Dr. Steens nodded. “Of course, take the time you need. We are in no hurry. However, a timely decision would be wise. Within the next couple of days is advised.”

Rachel nodded. “Okay.”

Richard felt numb. He wearily watched as the doctors all got up and headed back to the unit for further rounding. Rachel still sat beside him, she herself lost in her own thoughts.

Rachel sighed. “I think they just asked the impossible of us.”

He stared at the table top. He wasn’t ready for this decision – not now, not ever. He felt like he was drowning. He needed air.

Richard got up and left the meeting room, Rachel jumping up after him.

“Richard!”

Jack stood as Richard came out and turned, his form disappearing down the hallway towards the elevators. Jack was unsure if he should follow.

Rachel huffed, eyes filled with tears. “He always does this. He can’t have an actual conversation without-“ she shook her head, trying hard not to cry.

“I take it there was no good news.”

She shook her head, face scrunched up mournfully. “We have to decide how we want to – to let her go. She’s not coming back. Our mom is never coming back.” And she broke, falling to her knees in the middle of the waiting room, almost wailing in pain.

Jack didn’t know Rachel very well – he had only met her once before, the last time they had all been huddled in the hospital around Richard. But he knew he could offer her something – comfort in a time of hardship. He knelt before her, taking her hands. And he prayed silently, just being there with her, asking for God’s presence in this time of great difficulty.

* * *

Richard didn’t really know where he was headed. He just needed to be outside. He wandered out into the open air, finally finding a spot to sit in a garden behind the hospital. A couple of families and patients were around, but he ignored them, his mind lost in batting thoughts.

_I did this. I – I killed my own mother. I can’t touch anything without ruining it. Odyssey is no home for me. I always mess up when I come here. Why do I come back? Why do I do this to myself? I am not worth it._

_God, why? Why am I here? Why did my mother have to be sick? Why does she have to die? What about me? Why am I not dead? Can’t I take her place? I’m so unworthy compared to her. She’s my mom. Oh God, please help me. I can’t lose my mother. I can’t do this. I need Your help. I don’t know how to do this without You. Without_ her _!_

_I don’t know enough about You to know Your ways. But I have to believe there is something good in this – but is there? My mother will die. And her pathetic excuse for a son continues to get second chances. First Whit, then Jack. Now I am healthy and she is not. I have made mistakes – some mistakes I have felt can go unforgiven. But You have shown me great forgiveness, and you have shown this – this town all manner of forgiveness. You allowed those I hurt greatly to forgive me. But do I deserve it? Do I deserve this forgiveness? I don’t understand. I need Your help. I need Your help. What do I do? How do I do this without losing myself? I feel so lost. I – I’m so lost, God. So lost._

Richard was silently crying, tears streaming down his face. He was lost – so very confused. He didn’t know what to do. How was he supposed to decide the fate of his mother? How could anyone make this type of decision? It wore on his heart, dragged on his mind. And he felt like a battle was happening right there in him, between his head, his heart, and the God he had only just come to know. But what could he trust? He needed guidance. He needed –

For the second time in a few short days, someone had managed to sneak up on Richard. A form sat beside him, a hand held out.

Richard looked over, sniffling. Jack – another God-given savior in Richard’s tragic life. Richard took the offered hand and Jack squeezed back, smiling sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Richard.”

Richard looked up towards the clouds. His voice cracked with unshed emotion and pain. “I wish – I wish it was me. She never deserved this. I have made a giant mess of my life, and have survived through all of it. But my mom – even when she was disappointed in me, she still loved me. And now – I did this. I’m the reason she will die.”

“Oh, Richard. You are not to blame.”

“But I am! We had been talking and she drifted off to sleep and I thought nothing less than she was tired. But when I came to check up on her in the morning, she wouldn’t wake up. Her heart must have been failing that whole time, and I didn’t figure it out. I should have figured it out. I should have – _done something_.” Richard hung his head, tears falling faster. He wasn’t ready to lose his mother. He wasn’t ready to make such hard decisions. He had been making them his entire life – when would he ever find true peace?

Jack felt at a loss. But he did know something he could say. “I know that you have struggled, Richard. But there is more to this life than regret and pain. Circumstances as they are, you could not have known what would happen. You are not all seeing, all knowing. You are human. And we all make mistakes – you are not alone in that. You have a Heavenly Father who watches over you every single moment. And I pray you come to understand that. We may not understand His ways, but know that He never means to bring us pain. This life is but a small part in the eternity of the universe.”

Richard looked up into the eyes of the man who had saved him from ultimate death just three years before. He sighed and smiled sadly. “Is it normal to argue with God when you are so new to Him?”

Jack seemed to digest those words and a smile bloomed on his face. “Richard, are you saying -?”

Richard managed to shrug. “Apparently the bad stuff will never go away, even when you accept Christ into your heart. Of course, this is probably a gigantic test of my faith. I don’t know if I’ll come through unscathed though. I’m too – broken.”

Jack pulled Richard into a hug. “Oh how I have longed for this day. You are worth all that God can offer you. I am so, so thankful.” He pulled back, smiling broadly. “Whatever help you need, I am here for you, Richard. Praise the Lord, you are no longer lost.”

Richard laughed. “You really are so much like Whit. He said the same thing.”

This made Jack chuckle. He was ever so thankful for the blessing of Jesus Christ, and for Richard’s salvation. It was a joyful time – mixed with sadness.  
They were quiet for a time, Richard struggling with the right decision on his comatose mother. He didn’t want to say good-bye – but he knew she would be in Heaven whenever he got there. And that alone soothed his soul, his heart. He knew what he needed to do. No matter how hard it would be.

“I think – I think I know what I have to do.”

Jack nodded, not questioning. “I pray for your peace, Richard. No matter your decision.”

“Thank you, Mr. Allen. You continue to save my life in more ways than you can imagine.”

“I think I understand.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, Richard made his way back to the ICU waiting room, his sister just stepping out of the unit as he stepped off the elevator. She hugged him, knowing that whatever they chose would not be easy.

They sat. Before Richard could speak, Rachel had taken his hands in hers. “Mom’s condition has changed.”

Richard felt himself pale. “What – what’s going on?”

“Her respirations have changed. The nurses say she is likely to enter respiratory failure in the next couple of hours. Her brain stem is failing. We are running out of time to make a decision.”

He swallowed. “I think I know what we have to do, Rachel.”

She nodded. “It’s gonna hurt, but I think we should stop the pacemaker, let her own heart beat on its own. And – not suffer through resuscitation efforts. She’s not coming back.”

He realized that Rachel was a lot like him. They had come to the exact same conclusion. And she was right, it was going to hurt. It already hurt. But it was the right thing to do. To save themselves pain, to save their mother any amount of suffering that could possibly happen, even when she was likely not aware of anything at all.

“I – I agree.”

They found their mother’s nurse and told her their wishes. The nurse contacted the resident and both Dr. Aarons and Dr. Steens came up to the floor, meeting the two siblings in the ICU waiting room. They relayed their wishes for their mother and after that, things took off fairly quickly.

Just after lunch time that same day, the temporary pacemaker was turned off and the heart beat on the monitor slowed to a beat every two seconds – or about thirty times a minute.

Richard sat on his mother’s right side, squeezing her hand tightly. It was unknown how much longer it would be until both her breathing and heart stopped – but the nurses had reported that it would likely only be a couple of hours, due to her condition. Even though no more than one individual was allowed into a patient room at one time in the ICU, the nurses made the exception for them, allowing Rachel to also be in the room. As it was, the care had turned from life sustaining to comfort cares, and there was little reason to keep away the only two family members around.

Waiting is the hardest – waiting for the inevitable is even harder. The afternoon passes slowly, and Richard and Rachel speak few words. They are far too occupied with their own thoughts.

The time approaches four thirty in the early evening when Catherine’s heart begins to skip more beats and her breathing becomes almost unnoticeable. Richard doesn’t know how to feel, knowing he is literally watching his mother die. And all he can think is that he did this to her – he is the reason she is dying. He probably will never stop blaming himself, and that’s the worst realization.

Rachel starts to sob in the mattress, her hands clutching her mother’s left arm.

It feels like forever, but eventually the heart beat on the monitor fades out and Catherine’s chest no longer rises.

Richard feels like his world is falling apart. He numbly kisses his mother’s hand, tears in his eyes. And then he gets up, leaving the room where all he can think about it death and sacrifice, and how much it should have _been him_.

Rachel doesn’t stop him, her own tears falling faster. She stays far too long, grieving over her mother’s body. The nurses do not mind – they tell her to take her time. Rachel doesn’t know where her brother runs off to. She would eventually have to find out, but she doesn’t worry. He’s a grown adult. Everyone grieves in their own way.

So she stays, weeping for the lost time and the love she felt for her mother. And all seems so – hopeless.

* * *

He had ran from the hospital after the crushing blow to his familial state – his mother was dead. He had been too late to get his mother help when she needed it the most. Her heart had failed her, and she was gone in what seemed like an instant. Richard wanted to scream, to ask God why over and over and over again. But no words came from his mouth and his heart ached for what could have been. His mind was wounded and broken, the only image swirling around his brain of his mother, in bed two nights before, resting peacefully. But it wasn't peacefulness, it was lack of blood flow to the brain. And Richard had failed her. He was to blame.

He wasn't so much angry at himself than he was perpetually disappointed. His heart felt literally broken. He had so little to live for. A small piece of him cried out to God, wanting answers. But if anything, Richard knew he wouldn't get those answers soon enough. The damage was done – and Richard had already made up his mind on his next course of action.

Somehow, some way, Richard had found his vehicle and driven himself back to his mother's home. But he couldn't get out, couldn't walk up the concrete walkway or unlock the door. There was no point in it. She was never coming home. But he needed to get his things – he was going to have to leave town at some point. Returning to Odyssey always brought him trouble – how had he believed this time would be different?

_God, oh God. Heal me. I am so, so broken._

Richard rested his head on the steering wheel, willing the tears to stay back. He wasn't ready to lose it - not again. If he lost it, he probably wouldn't be able to make it into the house.

A sharp knock on the window beside him got his attention. He was expecting a neighbor or a stranger to have come found him, but the face staring back at him was a bit more familiar. He struggled with the door handle, feeling like he was a newborn baby. He was about to break - and break in front of  _her_.

But she was a smart girl - lady, woman, etc, etc - who perceived his brokenness before even he did. Lucy Cunningham-Schultz opened the door and closed the gap between their bodies before he had a chance to completely topple from the car, his movements less coordinated than a baby giraffes. Grief had the ability to do strange things to people.

She helped him to the ground, where he knelt, feeling every emotion hit him at once. Sadness, anger, love, regret, fear, joy, confusion... He didn't know why she had come - he hadn't seen Lucy for over three years.

As if she could read his mind, she was speaking. "Whit called me – right after Jack called me. Asked me to make sure you were alright. But I'm not sure there is much truth in that statement."

Richard felt his heart breaking. "I failed her. I'm the reason my mother is dead. This was all my fault." His heart then shattered, unable to be put back together by human means. His mother was dead and he was to blame. He hung his head and felt the tears start to come – this time he was sure they would never stop.

Lucy knelt in front of him, her face sympathetic. She gently cradled Richard's face in her hands and she laid her forehead on his. She eventually spoke softly. "You place far too much blame on your own human existence. You aren't at fault. Nothing can ever make this better or change the outcome. You are so very much loved, Richard. I know she has forgiven you. Don't forget to forgive yourself."

She felt his tears on her hands. She felt the loss as he did - she had lost her own father at a much younger age. But even after all they had been through, she still cared for the broken boy before her. He had turned into a man, and was still suffering all the consequences of a life filled with regret and distress. She wanted to take it all from him, to give him a chance to understand the true peace of a life not so shattered. But she sent up a prayer to God for that part, knowing only He could do such a miracle.

She leaned back on her heels, smiling, gently releasing her hold on his face. "I never told you thank you, for saving me back when you were last in town."

Richard eventually looked up at her, his eyes red and puffy. "I don't think I expected one."

Lucy scowled, shaking her head. "I don't even know what to do with you, Richard Maxwell. You must be a fool, if I have ever met one. But," she said in a lighter tone, her smile back, "I guess I can forgive you. If only you will forgive yourself. I have never met one so brave, and yet so - fractured."

"Genetic predisposition," he murmured, taking her hands in his. "Thank you, Lucy. I just wish - things had turned out differently."

"As do I," she whispered, squeezing his hands. "Now let's get you into the house. You have had far too long a day to still be at your car."

He managed to laugh. If anything, he knew she had all the words in the world to help him feel better. It's what he genuinely enjoyed about her, even if they could only ever be passing acquaintances. He had ruined that a long time ago. But even now, he knew she would not be disappointed in his choice in finding and accepting Christ. If nothing else, he knew she would be joyful over it. It connected them - in ways he had no way of comprehending just yet. He had much to learn. Hopefully it would not all be in vain.

 

* * *

 

When someone died, things got - messy. The estate of one Catherine Renae Billows-Maxwell-Woodworth was surprisingly not a small one, even if it did look pretty simply to those on the outside. Her last Will and Testament had outlined the major assets and what she wished done with them. For the most part though, it wasn’t that long of a legal document; however, it was still going to take time to sift through.

During Catherine's first marriage, she had acquired a flower shop, which stayed in her name even after she divorced, remarried, divorced, and handed it off to different tenants. It had gone up for sale just about six months before her death, however it had never been bought. Now it was in limbo - it hadn't exactly been named to Richard or Rachel. The Will stated it should be used accordingly - but that did not make much sense to either sibling. Rachel wanted to keep it - but she didn't want to move back to Odyssey to maintain it. Richard wanted to see it sold - he wasn't exactly going to be staying in Odyssey long enough to maintain it either.

They argued about it for four hours with the lawyer, who calmly decided that anything not specified to her children would likely just need to be put up for sale and the money obtained split equally between the two siblings, the beneficiaries.  

Richard, and eventually Rachel, reluctantly agreed that would be the best way to handle the situation - seeing as neither of them wanted to stay in town for very long. They had lives elsewhere - and no matter what happened over the years, Richard was never sure Odyssey could feel like home again.  

The lawyer arranged for a side entity to take over the selling of the house and the flower shop as long as both Richard and Rachel went through the house for whatever it was they wanted. Nothing else in the Will had been specified exactly for outside individuals, and only two other items had been mentioned specifically for Rachel and Richard.

Somehow, Catherine had known on instinct that her son would grow into the God she knew, so she had specifically named him to have her Bible. And he had only told her about his newfound faith the day before she was admitted to the hospital for the last time.

As for Rachel, Catherine left her three old journals filled with baby pictures, notes, and other mementos from their childhoods. Both Richard and Rachel had not discussed their childhoods in a very long time. Rachel's had been fleeting and carefree until she was forced to grow up at the mention of her wayward brother getting into nefarious activities and ending up in jail. Richard had unfortunately lived with a drunk father; not to mention he never seemed to live up to expectations - which was probably why he had gotten involved in so many unlawful things in the first place. Jail had certainly set him straight, but Richard had long felt that John Whittaker saving his life had been the turning point. And then - Jack Allen.

Needless to say, wrapping up the life of their mother Catherine was not an easy job, even for the two of them.

Catherine had died on a Thursday, and Richard and Rachel had been dealing with the aftermath for over a week. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear in Odyssey, sun streaming through the trees, enhancing the dew sparkling on blades of grass and a multitude of flower petals. It was the perfect morning in Odyssey – but Richard wasn’t feeling it.

Richard had been going through boxes of memories and things from - shockingly - his old room and things his mother had kept over the years. He had carried two of the boxes down from the attic and set them on the dining room table - already littered with piles of papers, books, some dishes Rachel wished to keep, and the fake Christmas tree from when Rachel had been three and Richard seven. Why it had lasted  _this_  long, Richard had no idea. His sister wanted to keep it - ironically. 

Just as he was about to open the first box open, the doorbell rang. Rachel had gone over to the flower shop that morning and said she wouldn't be back for a few hours. As it was, she had a key to the house. So whoever was at the door obviously wasn't her.

Ironically, thinking of the flower shop reminded Richard of a time when his mother was so focused on planting roses, daffodils, and pansies in the backyard that she missed his spring play when he was in the fourth grade – ripe young age of nine. Times had been simpler then – before, well – before he got dragged into a world of pain, hurt, manipulation, and regret. He still hated his former self – loathed it. There were times he looked into the mirror and saw _him_ – and if he had had the strength, he would have reached out and strangled the image. Usually though the thought would pass and Richard would walk away feeling at a loss. In the end, he just ignored all mirrors.

He had a bad habit of never actually dealing with any of his troubled emotions. It was why he was so broken – he had no way of forgetting. No way of forgiving himself.

Until now. He believed God could help him out. If only…

Richard sighed as he dusted off his fingers from the accumulating dust on the boxes and walked to the front door. He opened it to find a rather surprising face - one he hadn't seen since the entire Blackgaard mess.

"Jason?!"

"My dad said you were in town. I flew into Chicago two days ago from Peru for a meeting, and Dad called mentioning you had come to town. He might have also mentioned something about you asking him to baptize you."

Richard felt speechless.  _Whittaker came all the way here because of me?!_  "And you came all the way here - for me?!"

"We didn't know what had happened to you after - well, you know when. You didn't exactly keep in touch." Jason gave Richard one of those 'you are in so much trouble, son' looks. 

"I -" Richard wasn't sure how many excuses he could actually give Jason, considering his current predicament. But he internally sighed, managed a smile instead of the frown he was feeling, and let Jason into the house.

Some of the furniture had already been moved, and the dining room table occupied, so Richard led his visitor to the back porch where two chairs sat. In the evenings, his sister and himself had sat there talking well into the dark of night.

Jason sat, smiling. "So is what my father tells me true?"

Richard wasn't exactly sure how to answer as he took the opposite seat, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean - yes? I haven't exactly told the whole world yet, if that's what you want to know. I just - I came to see my mother and Whit was back and - it seemed fitting."

"I sense reservations in your voice."

He sighed. "My mother is dead. I'm not sure this is the time to - do that sort of thing."

"When will there ever be an ‘appropriate’ time to be baptized?" Jason leaned forward, hands folded together in his lap. "I know how it feels to lose a parent - my mother died when I was already out of the house; before Dad obtained Whit's End. But God is always waiting - always around. And I know this is all new to you - but don't forget that He can help you through this. Struggling is a part of the Christian walk, unfortunately. Reminds me of when I asked God ‘why?’ when my brother Jerry didn't come home from Vietnam."

"But isn't this supposed to be - be happy? Whit, Jack, my mom - they all were so  _thankful_ _when I mentioned it to them_. But I feel like I'm about to break. Like a dark cloud has settled. And I just don't know enough to fend it off. I'm not sure - if I want to go through this feeling like this."

"I know I don't have all the answers - but I know God does. And I feel that this is the right decision for you, Richard. Even in the midst of your sadness and unbelief. I assume that you'll leave town soon."

Richard looked away. He had already planned to get out Monday morning. He was nothing but predictable. But he had asked Whit to help him in this unsteady stage of new faith in an entity somewhere in the Universe that had saved his life, but ruined his - everything else. But that wasn't right - and Richard knew that. God wasn't the one who had done him wrong. God had given him chance after chance, and allowed him to reach this decision all on his own. And Richard knew he needed God. He was helpless. And if people like Whit, Jason, his mom, Jack, Lucy, and even Tom Riley could show him the right way to understand God, then what was he rebelling against? The fact his mother was dead, and he was at fault? Jack and Lucy had tried to persuade him otherwise - but Richard was still unsure. He was so - lost.

"I know things haven't been easy for you. And I didn't come here to preach. Mostly I wanted to tell you that it is good to see you, and that I'm sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do to help out, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure my Dad has offered the same."

Richard nodded. He looked across the yard, a bird flapping around in the stone bird bath. Somehow, Richard believed he was the same - alone, trying fiercely to scrub himself clean of his past, of his mistakes. But at the same time... "He has. And Jack. Thanks, Jason."

"Any time. I really came to ask how you were doing. But I think I - understand."

Richard shrugged. "The best I can, I guess. I'm not going to move into the house, if that's what you were wondering. Too many - memories. But maybe this will give me a better excuse to come back more often. Especially now that - well, now that there is a lot less baggage to carry around." 

"Do you still feel you owe this town?" 

Richard managed to chuckle at Jason's question. "Always the observer you are, Jason. I mean - I'll never  _not_  owe this town, to be honest. But with Blackgaard dead and Whit back, I feel like I can make peace with the things that happened all those years ago. And the last time I was here. Jack, yourself, Connie, Eugene, Mr. Riley - you all helped me heal when I was so unsure of myself. So I'm better than I was before, that is all I know for sure."

"Small steps."

"Whit told me about what you are up to. Jumping from country to country, spreading the word of God. How are you faring with that, Mr. 'I have a tan'?"

Jason burst out laughing at the comment. He put his hand to his chin, contemplative, a smile on his face. "I rather enjoy it, to be honest. I get rather bored staying in one place for too long. Odyssey was a handful when my father was away, not to mention a good amount of trouble, but once things settled, I got - small town fever. But I have to come back every now and then. If not for myself, then for my father."

Richard nodded. "That I can see in you."

Jason's phone chirped and Jason looked apologetic as he reached for it. "I have to go, unfortunately. But it was good to see you again, and you really shouldn't run off like you always do."

"I mean, I'll try. I guess."

Jason chuckled. "And think about what I said. There is no better time to come to God, Richard. Even in the midst of devastation."

Richard gave a short nod and then got up to let Jason out of the house. They waved and then Richard was once again alone.

Maybe he could do this, just maybe. But had he lost time? And was he truly ready?

 _There is never a better time than now_.

* * *

It had happened pretty quickly. Richard had called Whit and told him what he was thinking, and just like that - plans were in place. Everyone who was _everyone_  in Odyssey - sort of - had been invited, and very little else in way of preparation had really been warranted.

The next morning, Richard attended church with Whit, Jason, Connie, Eugene and Katrina, Tom Riley, Bernard Walton, Jack and Joanne, and even Lucy. Rachel wasn't exactly into the whole church scene, but had promised to be at Trickle Lake at two in the afternoon.

Was Richard nervous? Yes. But was he ready? Most certainly.

Whit had offered to drive Richard up to the lake, to which Richard had gratefully accepted. He was a little too jumpy to have to drive himself. The drive up wasn't as bad as the first time Richard had taken it by himself, and the memories didn't come as hard or fast. He allowed himself to feel the pain, remember all that had happened on that road. But he could safely say it was all behind him now, and he was going to survive. And survival was key.

They did eventually reach a quiet, secluded part of the lake that wouldn't be too disturbed by visiting families boating, fishing, and swimming. And all of the likely individuals showed up in support of Richard's choice.

Whit stood in the water with Richard, while the most important people in Richard's life stood on the grass near the edge of the water. His sister Rachel, his mentor Jack Allen and Jack’s wife Joanne, and others who meant a great deal to Richard in his new walk with God: Lucy Cunningham-Schultz, Connie Kendall, Jason Whittaker, Eugene Meltsner and his girlfriend Katrina Shanks, Tom Riley, and Bernard Walton.

His mother was missing, and it left a hole in Richard's heart; but he would see her again - that much was certain in his messed up, upside down life.

Whit smiled after everyone had finally arrived. "Thank you all for coming to this joyous occasion. I realize it is unconventional, but we have all been led here by unconventional means - Richard especially. But that does not change the outcome - another follower of Christ, another soul saved. This world is not easy to navigate, and it has been a trial for all of us. However, we have hope in a new life outside of this tattered world.

"Richard and I have discussed this part of the journey in detail almost two weeks ago. In the interim, tragedy struck. If nothing else, we affirm what Christ teaches: that all who come to Him are saved and their deaths will not be in vain. While Catherine cannot physically be here with us today, we know she is looking down from above and smiling on her son, Richard.

"God commands that we go out into the world and preach the gospel. May the gospel be in every one of us. Would you all please bow your heads to pray?"

Everyone bowed their heads in prayer and Whit sent up a meaningful and thoughtful prayer, asking for God's blessing on this day and this blessed act of faith and acceptance.

Finally, after prayer, Whit asked Richard one fundamental question. "Richard, do you accept Jesus Christ, our Lord God, as your Savior, acknowledging His sacrifice for you and all of us, and promise to follow Him all the days of your life?"

Richard looked at Whit, the man who had not only saved him physically such a long time before, but now also spiritually. And with a strong voice, Richard said, "Yes."

Whit, bless him, already had tears in his eyes as he said, "Then I have the privilege of leading you into the family of Christ. I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

At the same time Whit said this, he helped Richard bend back and immerse himself in the water. This signified dying to self and coming up out of the water renewed in the hope and love of Jesus Christ.

Richard came up almost laughing as the water ran down his face, dripped from his hair, and soaked his clothes. This had not been in vain - and no matter what, he was saved. Forever saved.

Whit pulled Richard in for a hug and everyone on the shore clapped and said a chorus of 'Amen!'

Richard smiled, brushing water - or was it tears? - from his eyes, as he looked up at his friends and -  _family_.

"I am so - grateful, for everything. To you, Whit. For being my guide for as long as I can remember. To all of you, for not leaving me, even when I made mistakes and even pushed you away. I never forget anything, but I know that I will never forget this moment. I have fought a multitude of demons in my short lifetime. But I lay that all down before God, accepting my wrongs and fighting for a better future. I am walking towards a far better future with a far better outcome then I was just a few short years ago. Thank you, all of you. For I have found the One I can find peace within: Jesus Christ."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: It's been about 15 years since I was baptized, so I remember little of what is actually said (and my memory of the last baptism I saw at church is fuzzy), along with the fact I'm Seventh Day Adventist and believe a few different things from those who go to church on Sunday. Hopefully it still shines through. I was smiling the whole time I wrote this, because how much I wish it had happened on the show. But that is what fanfiction is for - to fill in the gaps, to change things up. So, yeah. Thanks for reading!
> 
> BTW, I imagine this occurring right before Blackgaard's Revenge, and definitely in the interim between Darkness Before Dawn and the entire Novacom arc.


	2. Extra Silly Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silly scene I wrote that didn't make the final cut of the fanfic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters are so out of character - so that's why this is entirely silly.

"Richard?"

He was hoping everything had been a bad dream and nothing from the night before had actually taken place. But his sister's voice calling to him from the doorway to the guest bedroom already clued him in on the reality slowly sinking into his mind. His mother was dead. And what had he done that night?

That's right.

Richard forced himself to sit up and he quickly looked to his right. Yup,  _that_  happened. Lucy Cunningham-Schultz, one hit wonder, was still sound asleep next to him. They hadn't done anything inappropriate - Lucy would never have allowed it. But how exactly they had gone from "haven't seen you in three years" to managing to sleep in the same bed was beyond Richard's comprehension. Except, he knew why she had done it. She had almost dragged him up the stairs late the night before and dropped him into bed. Unfortunately, he had been an absolute mess and Lucy just never - left. She couldn't. And she still cared about him - regardless of their past together, of the mess of emotions that plagued them even to that day.

Rachel had concern in her eyes. "Should I be wondering why she is sleeping in the bed next to you?"

Richard picked up a sock from under the bed sheets and threw it at her unsuspecting form. "We didn't do anything! She accidentally fell asleep. Um - helping me with my emotions?" He was telling the truth, but at the same time the excuse sounded so menial. His sister was never going to believe him. Especially when he was in bed with  _LUCY!_

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Well, don't forget that the lawyer is coming over this morning with mom's Will. Even though I'm sure she never changed it after you went to jail."

They hadn't always been so friendly towards each other. Richard  _had_  abandoned his sister - first when he was working with Blackgaard, then when he went to jail; once he got out, he didn't come back to Odyssey and Rachel had to continue living in Odyssey. Even when he came back three years before, they hadn't really spoken. Eventually they came around to each other, apologizing and all that jazz. But Rachel had run off to Denver while Richard holed up in Chicago. Now they were left picking up the pieces of the home and life their mother had been living alone in Odyssey.

"Because I need this house or the flower shop mom still technically owned. Totally a great idea when I have zero plans to stay in Odyssey for longer than necessary."

"You're going to leave again so soon?"

Richard had completely failed at noticing that Lucy had woken up. He cringed at her words. He hadn't been very subtle, had he?

"He never plans to stay for longer than necessary. He's  _Richard_  "I have a life in Chicago"  _Maxwell_." Rachel rolled her eyes again and walked away, her mumbling inaudible.

He liked the distance they had kept before now. They were a lot friendlier to each other over the phone and text messages. But Richard also assumed it was because his sister literally just found him asleep next to the girl he had kind of had a crush on and ultimately physically and emotionally scarred. Yeah, his sister had a right to be frustrated with him.

Lucy yawned as she sat up in bed and then jumped out. She didn't look one bit embarrassed to have been caught. Then again, she probably didn't think it had been all that scandalous. They hadn't done anything except sleep!

"Look," Richard turned where he sat, trying to catch Lucy's glance. "Ignore her. It isn't like we did anything. And she's the only one who knows."

She smiled as she grabbed her purse from the ground near the door. "I'm not worried, Richard. I'm in college now, I'm old enough to make my own choices. And like you said," she snuck out the door and waved, "nothing happened."

He wanted to scream.


End file.
